


Early Hours

by dragons_and_angels



Series: MASH Fics [1]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, M/M, Mentions Of Infidelity, Pre-Slash, Season 1, ceasefire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 13:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17746718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragons_and_angels/pseuds/dragons_and_angels
Summary: Trapper doesn't let himself hope for the ceasefire to be real, otherwise he would have to think about everything he would leave behind.





	Early Hours

There was something really magnetic about Hawkeye during the ceasefire, even more than usual. He was a person who drew someone in with just a smile and a comment, that was how he had gotten to Trapper after all, but during the ceasefire, he lost that manic edge that said he was screaming right beneath the surface. He was loose-limbed and smiling and Trapper really wished the ceasefire could have been real. He had to tell Hawkeye that he didn't think it was a real ceasefire and though the smile dimmed, it didn't go out. Hawkeye didn't believe it and Trapper didn't know whether that was better or worse. When the smile would be wiped off his face, at least it wouldn't be from anything that Trapper had done. 

"Why are you so set on this ceasefire not being real?" Hawkeye asked when he noticed Trapper sitting in between two of the tents near the OR. The tent was busy being stripped of everything belonging the United States Army (apart from Trapper's bed which he had been very careful to warn Ho-Jon not to touch) and he really didn't want to join in the celebrations when his brain wouldn't stop nagging him that this was all fake. Getting your hopes up was just going to lead to a bigger fall in the end. 

"Hawk, look, I really want it to be real, but I just can't believe it." Trapper moved aside on the box to let a slightly swaying Hawkeye sit down. The faint cheers of celebration came closer before fading a little more as the crowd moved on. 

"Trapper, we're going to go home." Hawkeye being sincere was ten times worse than Hawkeye being sarcastic. Rare and precious and something that reminded Trapper of just how hellish this war every time he saw it and right now, he really hated this fake ceasefire. 

"And when we do, I'll buy you your first drink back in the States. But until then, I'm not celebrating anything." Trapper leaned a little against Hawkeye, feeling the warmth of their arms pressing together and wondered what it would be like back in the States. He would get to see his girls, hear their voices and be there when they laughed and cried, get to be a father again, but the thought of not waking up to see Hawkeye across the tent each morning was a different kind of pain. Louise was a distant kind of guilt but right now, Hawkeye was the one in front of him. 

"You're such a spoilsport," Hawkeye said with a laugh but Trapper was unable to muster more than a smile, watching Hawkeye as he threw his head back as he took another drink of the beer he had in his hand. Torn between wanting to be wrong and wanting to stay here in this moment, the words caught in his throat and all he could do was watch Hawkeye as he stood up and left him sitting there with one last wave back at him. 

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. He was getting maudlin and was probably the worst company possible right about now. Maybe he should go down to post-op and see if he could be more use there rather than moping around and thinking far too much about stuff. 

Two weeks later, Trapper was lying awake in his cot, wasting valuable time when he could be sleeping just thinking over what he was going to do when he got home. He turned on his side to see Hawkeye in the dim light of the tent. Rather, he saw the shadow of Hawkeye and if he strained his ears enough, he could hear Hawkeye's quiet breathing with the occasional whistle over Frank's heavier breathing from the other end of the tent. 

"Trapper, what's wrong?" Hawkeye's voice made him startle but he should have guessed Hawkeye would be able to pick up the vibes. His friend was an infuriating mixture of oblivious and far too empathetic at times. "You've been tossing and turning all night." 

Trapper hesitated. Frank could sleep like the dead but he wasn't going to bare his soul anywhere around Frank. Not that he really wanted to talk about what was on his mind, but it was better that, if you talked around the subject of your attraction to your fellow doctor, you didn't do it around someone who would be more than happy to put that black mark on your record himself. 

Hawkeye shifted, the sound of his blankets loud in the quiet tent and his silhouette showed against the tent wall. Trapper moved across the bed a little, as much as the single would allow and Hawkeye sat near the end of the bed. "Come on, Trap, tell me." His voice was far quieter now, Trapper could barely hear it himself. Frank's heavy breathing was louder and, though his heart was pounding against his chest, he decided to tell some of the truth. 

"I'm really happy at the thought of going home soon," Trapper said as he tried to work out what he wanted to say. Or rather, what he could say without ruining one of the best friendships he had ever had. "I can't wait to get away from meatball surgery and the food and the boredom, get back and see my girls again. But I keep thinking about what I'll be leaving here." 

"What? Hell on earth?" Hawkeye's voice had the familiar joking tone to it and Trapper grimaced, glad his friend couldn't see his face. Hawkeye's humour was a part of him and when it matched with his, it had helped get Trapper through some of the worst times of the year so far. Right now it just made things harder. 

"You, Hawkeye." Trapper could add more people after that, like Henry, Father Mulcahy, Radar and some of the nurses. But Hawkeye was the only one who he would even consider signing up for more of the war for. He didn't think he would actually do it, not when he was missing more of his daughters' lives every single day, but he would have to at least consider the decision. 

That shut Hawkeye up and a silence fell between them. Trapper should have been panicking, wondering whether he had revealed more of what he wanted to and how Hawkeye would react, but he just felt settled for the first time since the temporary ceasefire. He felt like he could actually sleep comfortably, or at least as comfortably as he had ever in the middle of a warzone. 

"Trapper..." Hawkeye sounded completely lost for words and Trapper smiled. He didn't think he would ever see the day when he made the great Hawkeye Pierce speechless. 

"Nothing to say, Hawk?" Amusement was the easiest emotion here. Panic or fear didn't belong in the quiet hours of the morning when he had a rare moment along with Hawkeye. 

"Trapper, you're the only thing that has made this war even halfway bearable." There was that same killer sincerity Trapper found so hard to deal with. At least he couldn't see Hawkeye's face - his expression mixed with his dark eyes looking at Trapper like he was the most important person in the world at that moment. That would just kill whatever composure Trapper had. 

"Same to you, Hawk." He could say more there, about how he felt like when he went home, he would be leaving part of himself behind. He was a different person here, Trapper John rather than Doctor McIntyre or Johnny or Daddy and he didn't know whether he would be able to handle leaving it behind when he went back. 

Hawkeye moved and then Trapper's hand was being held in Hawkeye's sweaty paw. There was something desperate in his grip and Trapper was helpless to do anything but return the squeeze. Then Hawkeye was leaning down and pressing his dry lips to their joined hands, the sensation so fleeting for the impact it had on Trapper's breathing and heart rate. 

"If you think you're getting rid of me after this war is over, you're obviously banging after the same discharge as Klinger." His voice was hoarse but Trapper starting grinning at the obvious sentiment behind it. He did the same thing as Hawkeye, bringing his friend's hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it. It wasn't exactly what he wanted to do but anything more would change this moment and everything was understood anyway. 

It was a moment just between the two of them and, like all the moments in the middle of the war, it was broken up by reality. 

"Attention, everyone. Incoming wounding by ambulance. Report to triage." The voice over the loudspeaker was tired, the words coming out slower than normal. 

Both of them sighed in unison and Frank jerked awake on the other side of the tent. Trapper wasn't sure who let go first, but suddenly his hand was empty and Hawkeye was standing beside his bed instead of sitting on it. 

"Wakey, wakey, Frank, it's a brand new day in Hell," Hawkeye said as he walked over to his own bed, completely nonchalant as if he and Trapper hadn't just been... whatever they were doing thirty seconds before. 

Just for a moment, Trapper imagined being alone with Hawkeye with no wounded, no Frank, no one else around to interrupt them. What would happen if it was just the two of them? Would they even still be them without the job and the distractions pulling them away from the other at all hours of the day? 

"McIntyre, are you going to be lazing around all day?" Frank's voice was a piercing whine, designed to interrupt Trapper's thoughts and wind him up faster than his wife at payday. 

"Frank, isn't it bad enough that we've got wounded coming? Do we really have to deal with you early in the morning?" Out of sheer spite, Trapper stayed in bed until Frank stormed out of the Swamp in a huff before getting up and dressed within the minute. The tent was still more dark than anything, the fire in the middle giving an impression of light but not actually throwing anything but shadows. 

"Trapper," Hawkeye said and Trapper turned to look at his friend because that was what he did when Hawkeye was being serious. "It's you and me, alright?" 

Trapper hoped Hawkeye could hear his grin in his voice. "Course. Not going to get rid of me that easily either." And there was it, the reason he did half of the pranks and jokes - Hawkeye's laugh. Ridiculous and infectious but it was something Trapper strove to hear. It was coming up to five in the morning, distant shelling could be heard and more young men to be patched up just to be sent back to be blown to pieces again were going to show up on their tables, but Trapper still had Hawkeye beside him.


End file.
